Showing posts with label Wombat State Forest. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wombat State Forest. Show all posts

Friday, August 31, 2018

on wednesday

On Wednesday we woke up a little bit earlier than usual to drive the girls to school for an early class. The morning was the coldest and frostiest of the year so far and driving across the mountains and through the forest the views were spectacular. Paddocks covered in blankets of shimmering white crystals, lazy plumes of smoke traveling up from chimneys and then across the road for us to drive under, baby animals cuddled up close to their mothers, and trees full of golden yellow wattle positively glowing in the brilliant winter sunshine.

On the way there Indi played us 40 minutes of Taylor Swift songs taking us all the way back to when our girls were little through to her latest stuff now. We sang along to almost every word.

When I got home my farmer boy was busy fixing a series of taps that had cracked in the frost. We walked together to the top of our hill to check our header tank and to collect some kindling for the fire. Small pockets of sunshine were just reaching through the trees and I lay down on the ground in one. It felt so good to feel the forest floor below me and the sunshine and warmth on my skin from above. After a little while Bren came over and lay down beside me. We held hands as the sunshine bathed our faces and filled our hearts with a little tingly taste of springtime.

We came back down the hill to Pepper and her two friends, full of plans for ways to spend their day off from school. Lately they've been learning about the Australian gold rush era and they were pretty keen to explore some of the sites near our farm.

They began by making a picnic lunch and packing it into their backpacks. Toasted cheese roll ups, carrots from the garden, crackers with feta, a thermos of chai tea and some sweet biscuits.

While they waited for us to get ready Pepper showed them an old campsite complete with bits of old glass and china and a site covered with daffodils that we think might once have housed a dwelling.

We met them outside and headed up over the hill to visit and admire Indi's latest paste up on the water tank and then we stepped over the fence and were on our way. And as we walked they told stories, sang snippets of songs, made footprints in mud, wondered about other tracks and swapped backpacks often. We tried to walk behind them to let them have their own adventures but they were often slow or stopping to investigate something, and we always caught up.


It amazed me that Pepper recognised the place where you have to leave the track and shimmy down a steep hill on your bum even though she hadn't been there for years and it was completely overgrown. We made our way down, grabbing hold of vines and roots for security and eventually made it to the bottom.





Even though we've been visiting this culvert for years, it never ceases to amaze us that it was built in the 1880's just at the back of our farm. The three of them went through squealing with delight and in fright and then Bren and then me. I sang my little heart out and made a mental note to bring the big girls back to try out the great acoustics.


By the time we got to the other side the picnic was well underway. We joined them for a while and then left them to their panning for gold and exploring and went and sat in a sunnier spot on a log nearby. I knitted and Bren carved a stick as we listened to the laughter from up the creek, the birds, Jo-jo the dog frolicking in the long grass and the other sounds of the forest.



Later, on our way home, we discovered some mine shafts that were so deep we had to hold onto the backs of their clothes while they lay on their stomachs to look down. Thrown stones took seconds to hit the bottom. In other areas we founds old bits of cars and discussed why and when they would have been abandoned.

It was probably at about this stage that we decided it was time to head back up the steep hill for home. We wanted to end on a high while this was still an adventure and before they got tired. But they had other plans that took us in the opposite direction following the train line that opened in 1887 and drove from Daylesford to North Creswick and then joined the Ballarat line. Apparently that part of the line cost 97,000 pounds to build and the first train that traveled it came off the tracks. (Thanks researcher Bren x).

When we first moved here there was a bridge that crossed the railway line which we drove over a few times just for fun. That bridge was burnt in the Muskvale bushfire in February 2009, just before I started writing this blog.

To get back to our farm from where we were we had to walk all the way back around or we could shimmy down the steep bank of the train cutting and somehow get ourselves back up the other side. Of course the vote was the steep down and up so we each found a spot where we thought the vegetation was thinnest and the least prickly and slid down. Pepper tore a big hole in her leggings but other than that we reached the bottom safely and happily. For a while we walked along the overgrown cutting looking for a place to climb the other side but were eventually caught up in the moment and the beauty of what felt like fairy land. Eventually we found the remains of the burnt out bridge but still no cleared bank. So we had to make do and each scrambled to the top whichever way we could.

Once we were on the other side we could hear Tom our Maremma dog barking so we knew we had to be close to home. After a quick visit to the back paddock to feed him and the chooks and to collect the eggs, we headed for home. 'I just love living on a farm in the forest' we heard Pepper telling her friends and we had to agree and put all those winter doubts we've been sharing to the backs of our minds.

As we got closer to home their steps became slower, they started telling us how tired they were and discussing their newly discovered injuries - a blister, a bite, a scratch. Inside they collapsed to watch a movie while Bren drove off to pick up the big girls and I lit the fire, hung out the laundry and left for the gym in the golden rosy sunset.

I've been struggling with so much in my head lately, so much negativity and doubt, Wednesday felt like a balm for my soul. It was so good to feel immersed in the forest, to escape the chores and be swept along in the moment. It was great to be led by the children, their pace, their decisions, their direction. It was amazing to be bathed in winter sunshine, to be warm enough and bright enough. It was great to spend the day holding hands with my love without distraction or direction. And it felt wonderful to be a completely present parent with nowhere else to be but on their adventure with them.

The other day my mum told me she wondered if I was having such a challenging time lately because I'm on the cusp of change. It reminded me of when our girls were babies and we grew to learn that most growth spurts, physical and developmental, were preceded by some sort of difficult time. Mostly by crying and sickness and tantrums. Often they'd suddenly sit up, or grow a tooth, or say a few words, and we'd reflect on the past few hard days and understand.

These past few weeks have been really difficult for me physically and emotionally. I've often wondered if it was caused by the state of the world, by middle age, by my sleeping issues, by our very emotional three girls, by a still empty studio, by a terribly sore elbow or by a long, cold winter. It never occurred to me that I might just be growing into something new.

Fingers crossed that mum knows best because I'm more than ready to leave this stage behind and fly on to the next. With the first day of spring tomorrow the timing feels perfect.

Enough about me, how have you been anyway?
What did you get up to last Wednesday?
What do you have planned for the weekend?
I hope it's lovely!

See you this time, next week.

Be kind to yourselves and each other.

Love, Kate x



Monday, July 9, 2012

Splitting wood.

On the second Monday of the winter school holidays, farmers Bren and Liam built the girls an obstacle course in the forest. They cut logs and criss-crossed them in forks of trees up off the ground.

Our girls spent ages climbing and balancing and falling down too. Such great fun!

And then my farmer boy taught them how to split wood.

Our new lightweight splitter helped.

That's a pretty important life skill I think.

Wood is really important to us here on our farm. We use the wood we cut from our forest to heat our house, to cook our food and to build with. 

The wood they split today will be stacked in a pile and left to dry out for burning next year. This year's wood is called green wood and by next year it will be called seasoned wood.

I love that our girls are learning these lessons. I love that they want to know and to get involved. I love seeing them with dirty hands and the biggest smiles on their faces.

I don't think I split any wood myself until I was 25.

I think they'll sleep well tonight.

So how are you?
Have you ever split wood?
It's great for a bit of stress relief, believe me.
Hopefully it'll be a useful tool when the teenage angsty years come.

Have a fabulous week my friends.

xx

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Suzanne (the cardi).




We walked through the forest, she and I.
She didn't want to go at first but I needed to.
I had to.
So I bribed her with a piece of fairy bread and she came skipping.




I told her that the rules were that we were going to listen instead of speak.
That we would try to hear all the forest's noises.
That we would try to see all the treasures.
And maybe even some creatures too.





And she loved it.
She found handfuls of moss, mushrooms and interesting sticks and leaves.

She listened and heard birds and crackling branches and the faraway dogs.
She heard the wind through the trees.

And of course she heard the camera shutter.
Funny that.

I loved it.
I loved watching her.
I loved the silence.
I loved the stillness.
I felt like I could breathe. Like I could think. Like I was slowing down. Like I was listening.

And the day went on.



Miss Pepper is wearing my latest hand knit Suzanne the cardi.
Suzanne is the most wonderfully, clever pattern designed by the fabulously clever Georgie Hallam aka Tikki.
Suzanne is still in the testing phase but I'll be sure to let you know when it's released.
My Ravelry details are here.

Next I'm knitting a stripey hottie cover and crocheting the last of my motifs.
I like to follow long term projects with quick.
Do you?
What are you making at the moment?

I hope you are having a wonderful week.

Bye!
xx

Monday, May 28, 2012

Listen.


My word of the week is LISTEN.

I've never had a word of the week before but I do like the idea. And to be honest, lately I don't think I've been very good at listening. Hearing the noise, yes. Feeling and reacting for sure. But taking the time to stop and listen to what is really going on is something else entirely.

This morning in the midst of the morning chaos I took a few moments alone to listen. I heard the early morning birds calling out to each other, I heard the girls calling Jo Jo, Jo Jo, Jo Jo, I felt that Miss Indi might need a little extra loving and I felt stuffy and claustrophobic and a yearning for space and time.

Then I really listened. And I heard that I needed to break the routine, to get outta here. To clear my head and get some space.

I suggested a bush walk to my farmer boy and to my surprise he agreed.


So after dropping the girls and sorting a few things out, we walked up the back of our property, climbed over the barbed wire fence and into the bush.

And it was exactly what I needed and just so wonderful to see the reflection of the trees in the lake-like puddles. To breathe in the icy mountain air and have it burn my nostrils and fill my lungs. To spend time with two of my favourite boys. To explore with no plans. To walk behind and watch my farmer boy's cute bum. To start off freezing, but slowly become hot and tingly. To visualise the blood pumping around and healing my sore shoulder. To listen to the birds calling and the water rushing by. To remember how much we loved walking in the bush when we first moved here. To realise that I still do love bush walking. To watch Jo Jo run and jump and leap and climb and to watch as he ran off hunting for minutes at a time but always coming back. To discuss which animal made which poo. To wish so hard to see a wombat. To make a mental note to bring the girls along next time. To find a hundred year old drain under the train line. To marvel at the amazing effort of the men that built that tunnel by hand and imagine what their lives would have been like. To day dream. To chat. To be in silence. In the moment.


And then to return a few hours later refreshed and ready to take on my week. Everything looked different, even our house from the top of the hill.

It's going to be a wonderful week I think.

I wonder what adventures it will hold. I'm listening.

Are you?

xx

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